


Heartbeat(s)

by WahlBuilder



Category: Mars: War Logs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Technomancers, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Technomantic Culture, twenty headcanons in a trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Roy is certain that Tenacity is jealous, and he tries to make things better.





	Heartbeat(s)

**Author's Note:**

> Roy/Innocence/Tenacity is hinted at.

It’s been brewing for a while, even though it takes Roy some time to realise that. And once he’s fairly certain about the reasons, he goes to Tenacity. He makes sure to not jump him in a closed space. The yard is secluded enough that they can have a private talk, but if Tenacity needs to, he may go away.

And though Tenacity has been avoiding him (avoiding _Sean_ ), he intends to get some things clear.

Tenacity looks up from a datapad, and his expression goes wary. He glances over Roy’s shoulder, then at Roy again. ‘Need anything?’

‘Yes. A talk.’

Tenacity turns his attention back at the datapad. ‘Don’t you have someone else to provide you with a quality conversation?’

So he hasn’t imagined it. ‘You are jealous.’ He thinks, and corrects himself. ‘Are you jealous?’

Tenacity glares at him from under his brow, and Roy realises he should have taken a seat first.

‘No. Don’t be daft.’

He sighs—but before he can reply with anything, Tenacity grumbles, ‘Why _would_ I be jealous when you’ve got yourself _such_ a good friend, some who understands what’s going on in your head, understands your struggles, your history. And with his looks, too.’

He doesn’t know what to say to this at first. He wants to kick himself for missing the signs for so long. He wouldn’t care with anyone else, wouldn’t care for their feelings about him—but this is Tenacity.

‘You are not jealous about _Innocence_ , though.’

‘That’s not the same!’ Tenacity exclaims, putting the datapad down on the bench. ‘The lad’s a part of this…’ He gestures between them, looks away, stands up. Fists clenching. ‘ _Not_ the same. He’s not from Abundance, not a refugee, not a Technomancer.’

‘You are not less because you are not a Technomancer,’ Roy tries, in his softest tone. ‘I’m _glad_ you are not a Technomancer.’

‘Right. Only, with _him_ , you talk about all those things you’ve been taught, your life in the Source… And I’m just a head-hunter, right, a mercenary, _selling_ myself.’ He spits on the ground.

‘You hate Technomancers.’

‘Yeah. And right now, I hate _you_. You and your highbrow _brother_.’

He should have seen that. He should have…

Highbrow.

Tenacity’s sister was Aurora’s wrestling champion. His mother, a botanist. His father…

His father kicked him out, because his father was one of those religious fanatics who cared not for the spiritual, following the Sun cult, who thought that if you suffered, that was your fault alone; who thought their duty was to repopulate Mars so that all humanity could spend life in penance.

And Tenacity liked men, didn’t hide it, and wanted freedom. To live his life on his own terms.

‘Tenacity. Talking about my past, my training is not… easy—’

‘You talk about it with him all right.’

‘—and I’m sorry,’ he continues, ‘that I don’t talk about it with you, I’m sorry I…’ He grits his teeth. Aside from those first glares, Tenacity hasn’t turned his gaze upon him. ‘Would you _look_ at me? You accepted a hunt on me!’

Tenacity does look at him—grey-blue eyes blazing, the lines about his mouth more prominent in a snarl. ‘And what would you have me do? Refuse a Technomancer?’

‘You could have contacted me!’

Tenacity’s mouth, partially obscured by his beard, twists. ‘I didn’t even know where you were,’ he says surpsingly quietly. ‘Whether you were even alive. You always leave, and never tell where you are going to.’

And both of them know why he’s doing it. Security, yes. Nothing else.

‘And then you came with the kid,’ Tenacity continues. ‘Asking Charity for help, going to the fucking Resistance, even. And I’m always everyone’s second choice only.’

Roy studies Tenacity’s face. Weathered, dark, scars both pronounced and hidden. Tenacity is older than him by a couple years. Roy wonders whether Tenacity worries he has not much time left for his chosen lifestyle, for fighting. He could tell Tenacity about Technomancers who fought well into twice his age, about the leader of the Abundance Opposition…

Maybe he should.

‘You are beautiful,’ he says quietly. He needs to say it.

Tenacity looks at him with eyebrows raised. ‘Are you c—’ Sighs. ‘Sorry. But I’ve not noticed that you’re drunk.’

‘I’m not drunk. And I don’t refer only to your looks—which are perfectly fine if one is after the “smug bastard” type. But…’ He goes closer to Tenacity, and his heartbeat picks up. He struggles to find words, summons his training. ‘Sean is a mathematician. He needs to pick the world apart and see how it works, and see that it makes sense, in the end, in its core. He calls me a mystic. I know all that math and physics at the core of my powers, but… I approach them from a different side. I see patterns and systems, too, and I see chaos, but…’ He closes his eyes, tangled up in his own ramble.

‘It’s music, to you,’ Tenacity says quietly. ‘Music, too, has math.’

He smiles and looks at him, hoping his smile will convey his gratitude. ‘Yes. Songs. Colours. Stories. It is all that to me.’ His smile fades when he realises this might not be helping. ‘I mean that… I mean… Aw, fuck.’ He goes to Tenacity. ‘Give me your hand.’

Tenacity looks him over.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Come on, I won’t bite… not out here.’

The little suggestive note earns him a snort, and Tenacity gives him his right hand. Roy takes it, too, in his right, opening his jacket with his left, and presses Tenacity’s hand right to the centre of his chest.

‘What…’

‘Hold on.’ And he presses his palm to the middle of Tenacity’s chest, too, the skin, as usual, nearly hot to the touch.

Roy closes his eyes. He doesn’t _need_ the touch to feel Tenacity’s pulse, or to know the truth of it, but he wants Tenacity to understand, too.

‘Only a trine can define itself,’ he says quietly in the cocoon of intimacy forming around them. ‘Whether they are lovers, spouses, whether they have horizontal or vertical kinship… It’s not for anyone else to say, or to even know. And it is said—and proven—that a trine synchronises with time. Their heartbeats, their breath rates… Their lives. All three of them feel each other even over great distances. They live together, and die as one. _Feel_ it.’ He presses Tenacity’s hand closer to his chest.

And after a moment, Tenacity’s fingers curl, as though wanting to hold his heart. ‘A little irregular.’

He opens his eyes. Tenacity is frowning, head tilted to the right shoulder, like a hound listening to the ground.

‘Because it’s flicking between your rhythm and Innocence’s.’

Tenacity startles. Roy slots his fingers between his, the palm hot over his heart. He slides his left hand up Tenacity’s chest and rests it on his neck. ‘You are my trine. And it’s not _just_ mysticism and not just because I’ve spent with you so much time. It’s a _choice_ , Tenacity. I apologise for neglecting you. I’ll try to be more conscious of my actions and inactions—but if I fail, do bring it up.’

Tenacity lowers his head, looks at him again. Takes Roy’s right hand. ‘Fuck, I often forget that you were trained as a priest. Ah! Don’t fight me on semantics now. You are _good_ at this.’

He feels both their heartbeats speed up. He hopes Tenacity feels it, too. ‘You know me the best. And I… appreciate it, Tenacity.’

‘Aw, _Roy bach_. You know how to make a bloke feel good.’ Tenacity grins, clearly pleased with this phrase that, in his case, undoubtedly suggests other things.

Roy rolls his eyes again. ‘Never change in this regard, old hound.’ And pecks him on the lips.

Tenacity brings him into a tight embrace, a little desperate, and Roy wraps his arms around him without hesitation. Their hearts beat in sync.


End file.
